Hurricane Sandy

Midtown today

Well, talk about timing. Mike and I decided to move to New York City yesterday, the same day Hurricane Sandy decided to bear down on the East Coast. So now instead of exploring this cool city and eating at fun restaurants, we are stuck inside our tiny Midtown apartment drinking bottled water and eating cereal with not milk, but half and half, because the stores are out of basic supplies.

Stocking up on supplies

Ironically enough, this same scenario happened to me when I moved to Southwest Florida in 2003. Little did I know, I was about to experience one of the worst hurricane seasons on record, and as a news reporter, I would be forced to stand outside and report on Hurricanes Charley, Frances, Jeanne and Ivan. What can I say? Hurricanes like me.

When we flew in yesterday morning to LaGuardia, we were on one of the last flights into the city. It was a bumpy, fun ride too (yeah, right). After we arrived at our temporary housing, we immediately went across the street to Rite Aid and stocked up on bottled water, soup and half and half. As I mentioned, the shelves were nearly empty and we got one of the last cases of water. It was a bit eerie. The lines were long and people seemed a bit frantic. Look at this photo...the woman next to us was totally eyeing our Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Funny enough...she bought about 20 candles and four packs of cigarettes. I guess it's important to have smokes when trying to "stay safe." (And she apparently didn't hear about the SW Florida man who died after Hurricane Charley because he got hit by a falling tree while smoking outside of his home.) See, smoking kills.

So now, it's just lightly raining, but we're doing what the emergency workers are asking us to do: we're staying inside and waiting to see what comes next. I can't wait until NYC gets back to what it should be-- a place where you can get Chinese food and 1% milk at 2 a.m.

Chicago's best kept secret

After three years of living in Chicago, I just discovered this week one of the city's best kept secrets. Did you know you can call ahead and have a cab waiting for you at your apartment? I never knew!

I was telling a friend of mine that I had the early morning writing shift at WBBM-AM this week, and my usual ride (my husband) is out of town. I was not too keen on taking the red line train or the 22 Clark Street bus at 5:15 a.m. (you either get robbed or get MRSA), so I wasn't sure what to do. He suggested that I call ahead the night before, and get a cab. Wait, what? Oh yeah, he tells me, they will not only pick you up right outside your door, they will text you when they're on their way.

Hmm. This information would have been oh-so-handy a few months when I waited for 20 minutes in the rain while trying to get a cab to Midway Airport.

So I decided to try it. I called Yellow Cab the night before my shift and scheduled the taxi. Sure enough, they texted when the driver was on his way and he called when he was outside. When I walked out of my apartment--there he was. Double parked on our street waiting for me. When I got in, he reset the meter. AND it gets better....he was also freshly showered and listening to WBBM-AM! AND he didn't try and drive 65 mph down Clark Street! It was a beautiful thing.

So there you have it...too bad I'm learning such great knowledge the week I'm moving out of this fabulous city. (Details on that, coming soon!)

Living in Chicago

After living in our current Chicago apartment for two years this month, I've made a startling revelation: I really know nothing about our neighbors.

I do know the name of one, it's Kai. But she's a two-pound Yorkie. I also know one of my neighbors is likely in medical device sales, but that's only because I started Googling the companies from which he receives daily packages from, because I was worried he might be making a bomb. I also know the man who lives next door to us is not paying his student loans, because debt collectors called us asking if we could help encourage him to pay. Yeah, right federal government.

Yep, that's it. Until this happened.

I took some of our recyclables to the 2nd floor recycling bin when I saw this. It's the packaging for a fantasy bondage swing! The box was big too, so these neighbors are not messing around (well, clearly they are). Here is what I immediately thought (in this order):

1) Wow, we have some very kinky neighbors
2) At least they recycle

The crazy thing is (other than trying to wear those shoes) is that they didn't even try to hide it! The box was right there on top of egg cartons and plastic bottles. I posted the photo on Facebook and got some great reactions. One said, "Now you need to mess with them by asking if you can come over and hang around." (Awesome Kevin) Another said, "Asking them to keep it down will never be the same." (Touche James).

Funny enough, I never hear our neighbors because it's a very quiet building. I used to hear the L train every 5-10 minutes, but like any Chicagoan, I hardly notice anymore. I occasionally hear a loud bang, which I convince myself is a car backfiring or fireworks, not a gun shot. But that's it. I definitely don't hear what I can only imagine comes from a device like this.

Of course, this discovery has given my some great punch lines. When Mike texted the other day to ask what I was doing, I said, "Oh, I'm just hanging out at the neighbors."

Bruce Springsteen at Wrigley in Chicago

"I've realized as long as live, I'll never be as cool as The Boss," Michael Evanchan (my hubs).

I've found in my 30's, I do a lot of self-reflection. Am I a good person? Am I fun? Am I living up to my full potential? I don't have answers to many of these questions but I do know one thing: when I'm 62 years old, I hope I'm at least 1/2 as cool as Bruce Springsteen.

Mike and I went to the Springsteen concert last night in Wrigley, and it. was. awesome. The man went for 3 1/2 hours with only a couple of quick water breaks (and a fast chug of a concert-goer's beer), and apparently he went just as long and energetically on Friday night. That means over a two-day span, a man who's the same age as my mom sang, danced and bopped for 420 minutes. Isn't that crazy? I had to sit down twice because I was so exhausted.

The Boss not only belted it out, he danced the entire time. He played several guitars. He ran off the stage and into the crowd. He plucked a young girl from the crowd and carried her on his shoulders. He also jumped on the piano to perform and happily kept going when the rain started coming down. He simply tilted his head to the sky, closed his eyes and let the rain wash over him. You could tell he enjoyed every stinkin' wet minute.

 One of my favorite moments is when he belted out "Dancing in the Dark." I remember when this song came out in 1984. When I heard it on the radio or MTV, I tried to shake my 6-year old booty just like he shook his in his delightfully tight gray jeans. At the time, I just knew it was a catchy song. Now I can relate to the lyrics, which talk about aging and self-doubt. How great is this line? "I ain't nothing but tired. Man I'm just tired and bored with myself." And who can't relate to, "I check my look in the mirror...wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face!"

After the show, the rain continued and of course, there wasn't a cab to be found. So Mike and I walked from Wrigley to Lincoln Park and got soaking wet during the 1.6 mile jaunt. When Mike seemed shocked that I wasn't complaining (like usual), I said, "Bruce just went 3 1/2 hours for us. Walking home in the rain is the least we can do for him." Mike laughed.

Well done, Springsteen. Well done.

Facebook relationship status

You can wear your status! Courtesy: Zazzle.com

I'm obsessed with Facebook relationship drama. Ob-sessed. You know the kind I'm talking about too...so and so changes their status from "married" to "it's complicated" or so and so is in an "open relationship." It takes everything I have to not send them a message (whether I know them well or not) and ask, "What in the world happened?" Or "What do you mean by open relationship?" And just what are they open to...getting an STD?

It's very clear that people update their relationship status a) because they are super honest b) they just want to get it over with, knowing people with ask questions or c) they enjoy the drama. I've seen couples who are clearly taunting each other with their changed statuses and posts that are obvious jabs directed at their spouse/girlfriend/boyfriend. 

My favorite is when in just a matter of a few days, someone goes from "married" to "it's complicated" to "separated" to "married" again. Phew, who can keep up? What that essentially means is "I'm married to Mike." "Mike flirted with a girl and now I'm mad." "Mike and I fought all night and I think it's over." "Oops, found out the girl Mike was talking to is his co-worker." Every up and down of their marriage is put out there for the world to see.

To think--Mark Zuckerberg designed the relationship status just to find out if the hot women on campus were single or not. Now, not only do we get to find out if they're happy in their relationship, but we also find out how they look in a cell phone self-portrait with kissy-face duck lips.

Kristen Stewart cheating scandal

Oh my goodness, can you believe this latest national scandal? No, not the Chick-fil-A hoop-la, I'm talking about Kristen Stewart cheating on her Twilight co-star Robert Pattinson. What was she thinking??

Courtesy: US Weekly

In the latest issue of US Weekly, there is not one, not two, but five pictures showing Stewart either kissing or cuddling with her Snow White and the Huntsman director, Rupert Sanders, who is 41 and married. The photos are in the daylight and oh-so obvious.

Okay Kristen--here's the deal. Have you never picked up a copy of US Weekly? Do you know millions of us eagerly buy them every week so we can see you and all the other Hollywood stars flocking on the beach or walking your dogs. Heck, we even want to know you're "Just Like Us" in photos showing you picking your teeth, pulling a wedgie out of your behind or licking your fingers after eating delicious Buffalo Wings. Somehow seeing photos of you walking out of the grocery store with toilet paper and no make-up on, takes my mind off the incredible pain I'm enduring on the gym treadmill or the pain I'm about to endure at the dentist.

Also, have you ever seen the great lengths the paparazzi go to to find y'all? You've probably noticed them every time you step out of your house, car or restaurant. And don't you find it strange that there are always black cars following you everywhere you go?

I'm pretty sure if photogs can capture images of Shiloh Pitt cruising down the Nile River with Angelina Jolie on their peace mission in Egypt or photograph Suri Cruise mid-breakdown after not getting the puppy she wanted in a pet store, they can probably find you in the outskirts of L.A. at 2 p.m. on a Tuesday.

Just sayin'.

And Rob-I'm so sorry you're heartbroken. But here's my number. Call me maybe?

Chicago is one expensive city

We've given the city of Chicago a lot of our money. And I mean a lot. You may remember me telling you about the parking sticker debacle of 2011 that cost us $240. We had an expired parking sticker but didn't know it...we parked in a friend's neighborhood...we never got the ticket and blah, blah, blah, we ended up owing the city a ton of cash.

And of course there's always the tremendously large amount of rent we pay, which is partially so high because of Chicago taxes. I won't give you an exact figure, but let's just say in my 2 1/2 years here, we have paid a healthy five-figure number for a one-bedroom apartment. And you can't forget the food, drinks and just about everything else that costs more in a city.

But apparently it's not enough. Chicago always wants more.

Look at this fun letter I opened yesterday. Yep, the city caught us (and by us, I really mean my husband) running a red light last month which will now cost us a cool Benjamin Franklin. (Sadly, I'm pretty sure the last time I got a $100 bill was when I graduated from college.)

Oh, and there's no denying the infraction...there's photographic proof. They included three photos of my Murano cruising through that light like Katie Holmes is cruising her way out of being Mrs. Cruise. The city says I can fight it, but why even bother? I just hope the guy in the white car next to us got the same fun letter.

The funny thing is...I know exactly when this happened. It was my grad school graduation day and Mike was driving his parents and my dad home from Evanston. I can almost envision that car ride...lots of family members talking all at once about their ingrown toenails Christmas Vacation style and Mike knew he needed to lay on that gas and get home as quickly as possible.

The other funny thing is...this isn't our only ticket from that day. Yep, Chicago found us later parked on our street so my parents could have our parking garage spot and wouldn't ya know, we had an expired license plate. That cost us another $60. Yep, it seems we'll never learn. It's just so hard keeping up with car stuff when I only drive the car once every couple of weeks.

So there you go Chicago, you're getting another $160 from the Evanchans. The new score--Chicago 3, Evanchans 0.